


Next of Kin

by churchkey



Series: Winnix Ficlets (originally posted to Tumblr) [2]
Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcoholism Treatment, M/M, Teddy the WonderSetter, Tumblr Prompt, because they're winnix, but they work it out, kiss prompt, sex angst, sex awkwardness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29218596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/churchkey/pseuds/churchkey
Summary: The day Dick drops Lew off at treatment and the day he brings him home again.
Relationships: Lewis Nixon/Richard Winters
Series: Winnix Ficlets (originally posted to Tumblr) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132430
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Next of Kin

**Author's Note:**

> Another installment of me crossposting stuff I originally posted to Tumblr. Written last summer, these are the two kiss prompt ficlets that eventually became _A Spell of Riot_ (so you might recognize some stuff).

_**I. a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss** _

“You don’t have to do this.”

Dick turned his gaze from the ivy-covered stone walls, the clean white sidewalks with their neat box borders, and looked at Lew. 

For a moment, Lew just stood there silently beside him, staring at the stately building through his sunglasses. Then he took a long, deep breath. 

“Yes I do.” 

He dipped his head to remove his sunglasses, folded them, and slipped them into the breast pocket of his sport coat. He reached into the coat’s interior pocket and retrieved his flask. 

“Here,” he said, holding it out to Dick. 

“What do you want me to do with it?” 

“I don’t care,” Lew said. “Throw it in the lake. Just get rid of it.”

But they both knew Dick would do nothing of the sort. When he got home later, he’d take a box down from the shelf in their closet and there it would stay, kept safe among old treasures. A broken cricket. A silk map. A watch stopped at 1030 on a sunny day in September, 1945. All their tarnished, precious things. 

A woman wearing a sky blue cardigan over a white shirt dress approached them. 

“Are you here to check in?” she asked, her steady, gentle voice and bright smile completing the veneer of calm reassurance. 

“Yes,” they said together. Lew cleared his throat and spoke in a softer voice. “Lewis Nixon.”

She consulted her clipboard. “Why yes,” she said cheerfully, as though he’d just won a prize. “Here you are.” 

Lew looked at Dick and smiled wistfully. “Here I am.”

“I’m Mrs. Radcliffe, the intake nurse,” she said, and shook hands with each of them. “I’ve got some papers for you to sign, and then we can get you settled in.” She looked at Dick. “And you are…”

“I’m his, uh - “ Dick stammered, searching for the appropriate word. “I’m his -”

“He’s power of attorney,” Lew broke in with the effortless grace for which Dick had come to depend on him. 

“Ah,” she said, and Dick noticed her voice become a bit more guarded. “Would that also make him next of kin?” 

“Yes it would,” Lew said decisively, and for the first time in a week, Dick thought he sounded like himself again. 

“In that case, I’ve got some papers for you to sign too.” The friendly smile came back into her face. “If you’ll just follow me, we can get started and get you on your way.” 

“Of course,” Dick said. “We’ll just be a moment.” 

She turned and began walking toward the grand entrance of the building, leaving them standing there, stuck between their steely resolve to fight this battle once and for all and an overwhelming desire to turn tail and run.

Lew took Dick’s wrist and squeezed hard. 

“Tell Teddy I love her. Show her a picture of me every day, I don’t want her to forget me.” 

Dick breathed a quiet little laugh. “She won’t forget you.”

“And scratch her behind her ears a lot, she likes that.” 

“Okay,” Dick said calmly. “I promise.” 

He slid his hand into the back pocket of his trousers and pulled out an envelope. 

“What’s that?” Lew asked. 

“I said I’d write every day, didn’t I?” He opened the flap of Lew’s coat and tucked the envelope into the pocket where his flask had been. 

“A whole month,” Lew muttered, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ.” 

Dick was about to make a joke about conjugal visits when he looked into Lew’s eyes and saw something that made his whole body go cold. 

“Hey,” he said, turning to face him. He took both of Lew’s hands in his. 

“Dick, I’m -” but Lew didn’t finish, just exhaled shakily and looked down at his feet. 

“Listen to me,” Dick began, forcing his voice to sound stronger than he felt, but Lew was still staring at the ground. 

“Nix.” 

He waited for Lew to meet his gaze, and then spoke gently and slowly. “You are the bravest person I’ve ever known.”

Lew laughed softly and looked down again. 

“You are,” Dick insisted. “You can do this.”

He brushed his thumbs over Lew’s knuckles, his eyes darting left and right. It seemed the coast was clear, so he leaned forward, tucked his chin, and pressed a quick kiss to Lew’s mouth. 

“I love you,” he whispered, and rested his forehead against Lew’s. 

“I love you too,” Lew murmured back, and then Dick felt hands on either side of his neck, fingers in his hair, and Lew was kissing him again, deeply, desperately, and Dick was kissing him back, pouring into it everything he’d been holding back, words he couldn’t say out loud because he knew that if he did, he’d start crying and he had to be strong right now. _I know you’re scared_ , he kissed, _It’s okay_ , and _I’m so proud of you_ , and _I would have loved you anyway, I’ll love you no matter what._

They pulled away, still clinging to each other’s shoulders and taking nervous, halting breaths. Dick tapped the center Lew’s chest with his index finger; Lew did the same to him. They were just part of their language now, these gestures, their way of saying the only things that really mattered, the things they’d never needed words for in the first place. 

“Alright,” Lew said finally. He smoothed his hair and flashed a cocky grin at Dick. “Let’s get this over with.” 

Dick nodded and looked into his eyes, unwavering. They could do this. 

* * *

_**II. moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed**_

“Nice day for a drive.”

Dick’s eyes darted toward Lew across the bench seat of the pickup. Lew pulled his gaze from the blur of trees lining the highway and looked at him. At his calloused hands, resting casually on the steering wheel. At the delicate hair on his forearms, ruffled by the breeze from the open window. At the corners of his mouth, lifting and then falling in a constant effort to restrain a giddy smile. And those eyes, shining like pale silver, Christ how he’d missed them. 

Checking out had been a surprisingly casual affair compared to the month of hell he’d just endured. There were nights early on when he thought he might be dying, had prayed for it, even. He woke up feeling profoundly grateful, not so much to be alive as for the simple fact that Dick didn’t have to see him like that, didn’t have to hear the whimpering and retching and cursing and crying, even though he kept insisting in his letters that he would have done it happily. He would have nursed him through it, cleaned up after him, taken care of him. Lew could tell it was driving him a little bit crazy to let someone else take care of him. 

But all of that was over now; Dick was taking him home. The last few days had been all about preparing for the transition, with a heavy emphasis on taking it slowly and not expecting too much. The biggest concern was, of course, falling off the wagon, but though half the guys in the program were not there for the first time, Lew wasn’t worried about that. Perhaps he should be, and maybe that would come in time. But he wasn’t concerned about that now, not with Dick by his side again, whose convictions were their own force of nature. Lew had learned early on that there was very little he could do to weaken Dick’s confidence in him. It was unwavering. 

Lew’s chief concerns in this sober new world were a bit more material in nature. Corporeal. Anatomical. Not to be dramatic about it, but he was sincerely worried that they’d never have sex again. 

And sex had very clearly been on Dick’s mind for the past few weeks. He never got explicit in his letters, but every few days a reference to their love life would slip in, something about the bed feeling too big without him, or how the trace of lilacs in the air reminded him of that night in Aldbourne, that alley just down from the pub. Thank god for the blackout. 

How could Lew tell him? How could he admit that in four weeks, he’d had only one legitimate hard on, which had gone soft in his hand even as he’d shut his eyes tighter and the images in his head became filthier, things he’d never dream of asking for outside of his desperate fantasies. On the rare occasions when it had happened before, he’d always been able to blame the booze. Dick had been disappointed, sure. But he'd understood. Lew would just be careful to drink a little less for the next few days and things would go back to normal. 

“Hey, I got us some steaks from the locker,” Dick said. “I thought we could grill.”

Lew smiled at him with a far-off look in his eyes. “That sounds great.” 

“And I cleaned yesterday,” Dick continued. “Washed windows, did all the laundry.” He slid his hand across the seat and lay his palm on the inside of Lew’s thigh, just above his knee. “Put fresh sheets on the bed.” 

Lew looked down at Dick’s hand. He felt little waves of humiliation lapping at his heart. They’d said it might take months for his libido to come back, maybe even a year, a thought that, quite frankly, terrified him. Not that sex was the defining element of their marriage or even the most important. But in the absence of it, Lew had begun to realize how deep it ran, this vein of intimacy between them, and how fiercely he needed it, that feeling of tapping into something precious and protected, something they shared only with each other. It was like there was this invisible cord between him and Dick, and every time they made love, they twisted it up tighter. What would happen to them if that cord began to fray?

He sighed heavily and covered Dick’s hand with his, slipping his fingers between Dick's. 

“You know, honey…” he began slowly. “I might not - be able to… I mean, not right away.” 

Dick smiled patiently and turned his hand over in Lew’s, bringing their palms together. “It’s okay.” 

“I want to, I just -”

“Lew.” Dick squeezed his hand harder, his voice a brick wall of calm insistence. “It’s okay.”

***

He was standing at the kitchen sink, rinsing the last soap bubbles down the drain, when he felt Dick’s arms around his waist, the warmth of his chest against his back through his shirt. 

“Is this alright?” Dick’s breath on his ear, his voice tentative. 

Lew dried his hands on the dish towel and leaned back into his body, rubbing his cheek against Dick’s neck. 

“Yes.” He tilted his head and brushed his lips against Dick’s throat. 

Dick held him a little tighter and began to slide his hands up his torso, over his ribs. “I missed you so much,” he mumbled softly into the hair at Lew’s temple. 

“Missed you too, baby.” 

As the words tumbled from his lips, he felt something, a tingling ache, a warm little shiver, deep down at the root of his spine. He turned around and hooked his arms around Dick’s neck.

Dick swallowed; Lew watched his adam’s apple bob slowly up and down his throat, watched the little spark of lust in his eyes as it kindled into a flame. 

“What do you think?” Dick asked softly. “Want to give it a try?”

“Suppose we’ve got nothing to lose,” Lew said, a half-hearted attempt at lightening the mood, which was quickly overcome by an inexorable swelling between his legs. 

“Holy shit,” he whispered, surprised at the awe in his voice. “Dick.” 

“Lewis.” Dick’s mouth quirked in an amused grin. “What’s -”

“I’m hard,” he said quietly, and looked down at his fly to confirm that the feeling was real. “I’m _hard_ , Dick,” he said louder. He dropped his head back, his shoulders shaking in low rumbles of relieved laughter. 

“Well that’s - “ Dick trailed off as he pressed his palm to the front of Lew’s pants. “Jesus, you weren’t kidding.” 

Lew just stood there smiling, shaking his head in wonder.

“Buddy, you’d better take me to bed now or -”

But he was cut off by the force of the kiss, Dick’s mouth moving frantically against his, knocking their teeth together as he brushed his tongue against Lew’s. They kept kissing like that, roughly, sloppily, gasping for breath, as Dick walked them down the hall to the bedroom. 

He backed Lew up to the bed until he felt the frame against his calves, and then Dick’s hands behind his knees, pulling his feet out from under him until he landed on his back on the mattress with a startled laugh. Dick’s fingers, tugging his pants down over his hips and off of him entirely. Dick’s hand, his tongue, his deep, hot mouth. Eventually, when they were both naked and sweating in twisted up sheets, his cock, touching that place inside of him that split him into pieces, tiny, glowing atoms bouncing around the room until Dick put him back together again. 

That’s the way it had always been with them, Lew realized, ever since the day he’d first picked out that blur of auburn in a sea of khaki, a rare gem shining through the monochrome of Army life. The way Dick looked at him, the way he touched him, disassembling him and putting him back together as something more, a whole greater than the sum of its parts. Waking more alive each day. Falling deeper in love. Starting new.


End file.
